


Forty-Six Minutes

by Agasthiya



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Smoke Detectors, they just want to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agasthiya/pseuds/Agasthiya
Summary: In the middle of the night, Yuuri and Viktor join forces against their smoke detector.





	Forty-Six Minutes

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching the episode "The One Where They're Up All Night" from Friends and used it as an excuse to write some fluff & domesticity
> 
> Thanks a lot to [Pauline](http://ggaypilot.tumblr.com) for betaing this for me ❤️
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://piecesofbrokenrecollections.tumblr.com)

_**1:32 A.M.** _

“What the‒” Yuuri jolts awake, disoriented after being snatched away from his dream in the most unpleasant way possible. His brain is like cotton wool, painfully amplifying the repetitive beeping noise resonating in the apartment.

What _is_ that?

“No, not again…” Viktor groans, holding his head in his hands. His sigh is resigned as he gets out of bed, half the cover ending up on Makkachin ‒ whose slumber doesn’t seem disturbed in the least, judging by his peaceful snores. Sometimes Yuuri believes this dog could sleep through an earthquake. “Don’t move, I’ll make it stop.”

“But what is it?”

“The smoke detector. It’s acting up from time to time. Don’t worry.”

Now this is new information. Yuuri has been living here for over a year, and he has never heard the smoke detector going off at random. He has never heard it going off, period. He hasn’t even _thought_ about the smoke detector once.

But there is a first to everything.

Viktor ruffles Yuuri’s messy hair, fatigue radiating off the gesture. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sitting up in bed, Yuuri listens to Viktor’s footsteps going down the stairs to the kitchen. He listens to the muffled, frustrated voice cursing in Russian. He listens to the obnoxious beeping sound that is definitely not stopping as the ‘minute’ stretches out.

Viktor seemed to know what he was doing when he left the bed, but it’s clearly more laborious than expected.

Yuuri puts his glasses on and joins him in the kitchen, yawning and shivering from the cold but ready to give his support.

He can’t help but smirk at the sight that welcomes him. His dishevelled husband is up on the counter, half-naked, gripping the detector housing like he’s ready to yank it off the wall at any moment. It’s hard to believe this is the same man as the one flying on the ice with the grace of a prince, his blades painting the world gold as they shine over the frozen surface.

Yuuri pokes at his calf. “Need a hand?”

“Normally you can just turn it off by pressing the reset button but… looks like it’s stuck‒” He switches to Russian as he tries to force the button down and Yuuri is glad he only understands half the string of insults that come out of this beautiful mouth. It’s not that Viktor never swears; he does, but mostly in situations worth losing his (remarkable) patience for.

Like a fire alarm setting off in the middle of the night for no reason after a long, tiring day.

Viktor surrenders in an ultimate groan before getting down the counter. “Okay. I can’t do it. But you’re welcome to try.”

Like they have any other choice. There’s no way they can go back to sleep with that horrible beeping in the background. Yuuri has earplugs, unfortunately Viktor can’t stand wearing them. Not only this, but what if Makkachin wakes up eventually and gets scared? Dogs hate alarms. What if their next-door neighbour Mr. Vodyanov knocks at their door to complain? The old man deemed them “noisy troublemakers” (according to Viktor’s translation, that Yuuri suspects is a more polite version of the actual words) the very day they moved in together, but there’s no need to add fuel to the fire, no pun intended.

Yuuri mirrors Viktor’s previous posture, as Viktor positions his hands on Yuuri’s butt under the pretence of keeping him steady ‒ like he needs an excuse to touch his husband’s ass. Yuuri suppresses a chuckle, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Viktor didn’t lie: the button doesn’t move one bit when Yuuri tries to press it. He briefly wonders how it’s even possible then realises that he doesn’t care one bit and that the only thing he wants is to _make it stop_.

He won’t leave this counter until he does.

The awful beeping fuels his motivation and he finds himself putting all his strength into this goddamn button, his jaw clenching in the effort. He _will_ do this.

Several minutes of swearing and sweating later, the button finally gives in with a delightful click. Yuuri glowers at the detector, waiting for a bad surprise.

But it remains silent.

Unlike Viktor, who applauds cheerfully.

“Uh. Well. Fixed this,” Yuuri declares once he’s back on the kitchen floor.

“Don’t be so modest!” Viktor brings Yuuri’s hand to his lips, kissing it with a loud ‘mwah’. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Now that the problem is solved, the question is bugging Yuuri again. “How did the button even get stuck…?”

“Who knows. That detector has always been a mystery. But you fixed it, so does it matter?”

Yuuri shrugs. He supposes some questions aren’t meant to be answered. At least not at this hour.

They giggle all the way back to their room, Viktor carrying Yuuri triumphantly and tumbling into bed with him in a mess of arms and legs and mirth. Makkachin doesn’t wake up.

They’re going to sleep well now.

***

_  
**2:21 A.M.**  
_

“Seriously?” Yuuri got maybe twenty minutes of sleep before the alarm goes off. Again. That detector isn’t ‘a mystery’, it’s plain garbage.

“Well, at least we’re able to turn it off now,” Viktor mumbles into Yuuri’s neck. Bless him for remaining so positive at two in the morning. “Thanks to you. Stay in bed. Be back in a minute.”

As he shoves his head in his pillow to block the too bright light of the bedside lamp, Yuuri has the intuition that the night is far from being over.

***

_  
**3:07 A.M.**  
_

“Back in a min‒”

“Viktor, you’re not gonna do it every time. It’s my turn. Stay here.”

***

_  
**3:53 A.M.**  
_

When the alarm goes off for the fourth time, they expected it so much they don’t even have it in them to complain, even though a part of them naïvely hoped the third time would be the last. They’re both lying wide awake on their backs, staring at the dark ceiling in a daze like their fate is somehow inscribed in it.

“Forty-six minutes,” Viktor’s hoarse voice says, not moving an inch.

“Hm?”

“Do you know those torture methods where they prevent you from sleeping by repeating a sound at regular intervals? I calculated. The detector goes off approximately every forty-six minutes.”

“Very punctual.” For a piece of junk.

“I’m sure it’s doing it on purpose. To wear us down. Weaken us.”

Yuuri’s chuckle comes out in a small huff. He knows it’s only meant to sound dramatic but at this point, he couldn’t agree more.

“And what do you suggest?”

Viktor turns the lamp on again.

“We fight back.”

Viktor kneels on the mattress and holds out his right hand, like he does before every competition. Yuuri clasps their hands together, his determined look matching Viktor’s, but it only takes two beeps before the climate of silly seriousness gets the best of them and they dissolve into laughter, their foreheads touching and their fingers still linked.

Viktor is as exhausted as Yuuri is, maybe even more. Yet he’s doing his best to brighten up the mood and turn this ridiculous trouble into some kind of lighthearted game just for the two of them, and Yuuri’s heart could burst from how much he loves him.

Tomorrow, they will stay in bed all day. Maybe order some food in the afternoon, and play Rock-paper-scissors to pick who will open the door for the delivery (and Yuuri will win because Viktor loves choosing paper), and fall back asleep in each other’s arms, cut off from the rest of the world, their phones turned off, the apartment silent.

But for now…

“Do we have a plan?”

***

_  
**4:10 A.M.**  
_

The problem is, neither of them knows how to remove a battery from a smoke detector. The tutorials they found online make it look like it’s easy as pie (though if it were that easy, these tutorials wouldn’t even exist in the first place, would they) but none of them turns out to be helpful because they only work for specific detectors or require tools they don’t have (and if they do, Viktor has no idea where they are).

The more Yuuri looks at their detector, the more he believes it looks nothing like those featured on Google Image.

He chalks it up to tiredness.

“Hold on, I think I’ve got it,” Viktor says, his hands fumbling in the open detector. It took them at least ten minutes to open it and the inside is no less enigmatic.

“Vitya, watch your fingers‒”

“I’m good! Look, it’s easy!” And soon Viktor is brandishing the newly removed battery between his fingers, smiling from ear to ear. “Ta-dah!”

Yuuri grins back and claps playfully, but the nagging doubt remains. “Are you _sure_ it’s‒”

“Yuuri. Unless it’s actually haunted, how can it work without a battery? I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before, as soon as it started‒”

Viktor stops talking, his lovely smile frozen on his lips as the beeping comes back, gradually faster and louder than before. They stare at the infernal detector like a ghost just materialised before their eyes as the reality dawns on them.

The battery is in Viktor’s hands, yet the detector still works.

This is a nightmare.

And it only gets worse when Makkachin’s yelps are heard from upstairs.

Oh no. No no no.

Yuuri’s fear has become true. Makkachin is a heavy sleeper, but his awakenings are unpredictable; it was unrealistic to hope he would remain asleep throughout this mess. How stressful must this noise sound to his ears?

They need to fix it, _right now_.

“Shit! _Shit_!” One of Viktor’s hand hover over the detector uselessly as he covers his ear with the other. “What do we do now!”

“The wires!” Yuuri exclaims. “We need to do something with the wires!”

“But what?”

“I don’t know!” Yuuri skims through the tutorials he opened on his phone earlier, in vain. He has no idea what he’s talking about but if removing the battery changed nothing, the problem logically lies elsewhere.

Unfortunately he’s no technician and apart from ripping the thing off the wall, he’s running out of ideas.

Meanwhile, Makkachin is still whining, and Yuuri’s heart breaks at the thought of him alone in the bedroom, restless and not understanding what’s going on. Yuuri is torn between comforting his beloved dog and assisting Viktor, but this choir of beeping and yelping is shattering his concentration into pieces. He won’t be of much help to Viktor, but to Makkachin... 

He puts the phone down.

“I’ll go check on Makkachin!” He doesn’t realise he’s almost screaming to cover up the noise until Viktor replies in the same tone.

“Yes, please do! I’m just gonna‒”

Yuuri doesn’t wait for the end of the sentence (that never comes). He finds Makkachin pacing around the room in distress, but he runs to Yuuri as soon as he notices him, panting.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri hushes as he squishes Makkachin’s face softly, “we’re going to shut it down, it’ll be over soon, please calm down baby…”

Closing his eyes, Yuuri hugs the poodle against him and murmurs in his ear, feeling more and more relaxed himself as his hands stroke the soft fur and soothe the whining. The effects of the sleepless night and the unbearable beeping are starting to catch up to his body and, somehow, he needed a comforting cuddle as much as Makkachin did. And he’s certain Viktor could do with one too.

He had sounded relieved when Yuuri suggested that he stay with Makkachin to calm him down, which means it was indeed a good idea to split up, but it’s not fair to let Viktor deal with the alarm alone when he hardly knows what he’s doing any more than Yuuri. Maybe they could switch and‒

Right when the thought takes shape in his mind, an indescribable crashing sound coming from downstairs makes them jump, Makkachin’s ears perking up and Yuuri’s hands instantly stopping their moves.

And another one.

Then nothing.

The sudden silence is deafening.

Still holding Makkachin, Yuuri frowns and calls hesitantly, “Viktor…?” No answer. He gets up from the floor and walks back to the kitchen, Makkachin on his heels, his steps cautious like he’s preparing himself to whatever is waiting for him.

He isn’t disappointed.

Viktor is still standing proudly on the counter, beads of sweat on his reddened forehead and naked chest, his firm hand gripping the handle of a battered saucepan. In front of him, the entrails of the opened detector are reduced to a pummeled mess of crushed wires and circuits, the plastic cover lying at Viktor’s feet.

He looks like a gladiator facing his defeated enemy.

Yuuri bites the inside of his cheek.

“At… at first I was looking for something a bit more… a bit less… something else, but that was the closest I could reach and… Makkachin was stressed and so were you and I couldn’t think of anything else to make it stop and‒ are you _laughing_?”

Yuuri can’t reply. His mind is suddenly filled with images of gladiators movies he watched with Phichit years ago, the actors slowly replaced with Viktor’s current face and glorious figure and he’s laughing so hard he’s wheezing and shaking and Viktor’s outraged expression only makes it worse and‒

He takes a deep, long breath to calm down but as soon as he sees Viktor again through his teary eyes, he knows he’s done for.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hiccups, “it’s just… your face… that saucepan…” He can’t even start to explain what exactly is going through his mind. To be fair, he’s so tired he could laugh at anything.

Viktor looks down at the saucepan his hand is still clenching, like he forgot he could let go of it now. “What about it? At least it worked! You could thank me!” His defensive tone discredited by his growing grin made Yuuri laugh even harder.

And eventually, Viktor can’t do anything but join him in.

“Are you sure that this time…”

“Well… if tonight proved anything, it’s that you can never be sure. But yes, I think we’ll be fine.” They glance at the remnants of the detector, and the mere sight have them in yet another fit of laughter.

It feels so good.

No matter how exhausted they are, they can never get enough of laughing together.

They don’t stop even when Yuuri carries Viktor back to the bedroom, Makkachin happily following behind. Once they’re back in bed, breathless and their bellies aching, Viktor takes Makkachin in his arms, alternating kisses and apologies with a good amount of sweet Russian nicknames in the mix, and Yuuri almost regrets that this is all over.

Almost.

***

_  
**7:12 A.M.**  
_

“Mmmh… It was Mr. Vodyanov, was it?” Yuuri mumbles, his mouth dry, as Viktor slips back under the warm duvet. Even after they successfully silenced the alarm, Yuuri couldn’t say the end of the night was good: it was so well past their usual bedtime it took them a good hour to fall back asleep, and Yuuri could remember hearing the beeping even in his dreams, that featured an alternate version of their kitchen as well as some pictures from the tutorials he’d read online.

As if that wasn’t enough, seven o’clock sharp was the time the neighbour chose to bang at their door.

Some nights aren’t meant to be slept on. No matter the hour.

“He was more bothered by us ‘laughing like drunk hyenas’ than the alarm,” Viktor chuckles. “But when I explained what happened, he just told me ‘Call me next time, I spent half my life dealing with those little shits’. I forgot he used to be an electrician. Anyway, he wasn’t that angry.”

“Wow. Are you sure it was him?”

“Barking dogs seldom bite, that’s what they say I think? Want to come with me to buy him good vodka bottles as an apology?”

“...Now?”

He chuckles again. “Of course not now, you can barely keep your eyes open. Neither can I.”

They huddle under the duvet, gazing at each other as they hold their hands over the mattress.

“You were great last night. I’m sorry again. For laughing,” Yuuri murmurs, biting his lips at the memory of his husband’s victory. Too bad he didn’t have a picture.

Too bad he wasn’t even there to see the entire scene for himself. Viktor Nikiforov smashing a smoke detector into pieces with a saucepan is something that only happens once in a lifetime.

Something that could have probably become a meme on Twitter.

“I love to hear you laugh, even when it’s at me,” Viktor teases. “Now that I think of it, I don’t see how you could not have laughed.”

Yuuri leaves a quick but tender kiss on Viktor’s lips. “You were great,” he insists. And I don’t only mean the… swatting-the-detector part. I mean… it could’ve been a horrible night. But you turned it into something fun.”

“ _We_ turned it into something fun,” Viktor corrects, “you and me. By the way, thank you for looking after Makkachin.” He strokes Yuuri’s hair, his touch like a feather. “We make the best team.”

“We do. That’s why I love being married to you.”

_Because you can turn the silliest situation into an adventure, and I want to share them all with you._

Viktor’s smile is so incredibly fond it could make the hardest heart melt into tears. His eyes glistening, he holds Yuuri close and lazily rubs his cheek against Yuuri’s, one of his favourite things to do.

It shouldn’t be allowed to be so adorable.

Yuuri is about to drift off again when Viktor says, “You know what I think?”

“What?”

“‘True love is spending the night exorcising an evil smoke detector with your husband’,” Viktor muses. “‘Hashtag BackToBed’. It would be a hit on Twitter.”

Yuuri giggles. Clearly Viktor was one step ahead of him. “I dare you.”

“You’re on.” He grabs his phone on the bedside table.

***

_  
**11:32 A.M.**  
_

The tweet gets its 10,000th like.

They’re sound asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it ❤️


End file.
